Your Fault
by filmgurl2008
Summary: Claire goes to Sylar, blaming him for her father's death...and with a gun. sylarXclaire. peterXclaire.


"This is all your fault." Claire said bitterly. She lifted the gun from where it rested at her side and aimed it at his head.

Sylar chuckled. "It always is, _Claire_." He said her name with such..._affection_...that at one point in time it would have made her skin crawl. He heard her groan and he knew it was in frustration, as always. He couldn't help but smirk, his usual self-assured and amused smirk. He kept his eyes on her as he leaned forward slightly and placed his hand on the brown coffee table, which was the only thing keeping them apart, and made the glass sitting on the other side of it slide into his awaiting hand, physically untouched. He leaned back in his chair, watching the frown that had been on her face since she entered the room, deepen. "Drink?" He asked and shook the glass from side to side ever-so-gently.

Claire didn't answer him, but he knew she wouldn't. She just stared at him and kept the gun aiming at his head. They were in the same situation they had been in at least three times before...only this time there was a gun, now that was new. It was a somewhat unexpected twist. He smirked at her, one side of his mouth lifting higher than the other and his eyes gleaming with a kind of affectionate amusement that he had and would only ever show her. "Just out of curiosity, what's my fault this time?"

Claire's frustrated and annoyed frown turned into a hateful, angry one. "You know what!" She snapped loudly, jabbing the gun in his direction.

His smirk faded into a dark serious expression, but there was still a hint of his twisted playful side lingering on his face. "Say it. Out loud." Sylar said and stood from his chair.

She stayed silent for a while, just glaring at him. She took a deep breath, readying herself. She hadn't said it _out loud_ to anyone, not even Peter...and she knew that was why he wanted to hear her say it. "My dad...he...he died." She said slowly, keeping back the tears. "Two days ago."

Sylar chuckled and smirked again. "So, now I'm the cause of cancer."

Claire took an angry step around the table and jabbed the gun at him again. "_Sylar_."

"Claire, it's been almost twenty-years since we first met at your school homecoming." Sylar said and remembered the first time he had saw her. That had been when the unknown feelings had started, the cause of more than a few of his troubles. "Through those years you have lost all those who have tried to help you –your mother, brother, Nathan and Angela Patrelli, Hiro Nakumora and his friend Ando, Parkman, Suresh...and now your dad. They've all died. They've left you behind and you haven't even aged a day. Why are you still hunting me?"

She glared at him; he had made it sound like she was the bad one, not him. "You're the reason they're dead!" She yelled.

"No." Sylar said in a hard tone. He disappeared and re-appeared so he was standing right in front of her -one of the many abilities he had _acquired_ over the years. "They deserved what they got." He said as he gazed down at her still eighteen-year-old face. She was truly beautiful...even with the deep frown that marred her face.

"Oh really...why?" She asked through clenched teeth.

"They tried to keep me away from you." He told her as if it was the most of obvious thing in the world. "They tried to keep you from me."

Claire made a noise between a scoff and a chuckle. "You're insane." She said and moved the gun down his body, from his head to his right leg. She looked up to his face and saw the confused look on his face. She smirked lightly.

-BANG-

Sylar stumbled back, his hands going straight to grip at his leg, and let out a loud pained noise. "Now why did you do that?" He groaned through clenched teeth. He looked up at her from his bent over position. "You know it won't do me any harm; you were there when I took your power, remember?" He asked darkly, his amused but smug smirk back on his face.

Claire grimaced at the memory of him poking around inside her brain. She couldn't bear it. Her eyes lowered from his, falling to his leg just in time to see the bullet fall from his leg and his wound heal. She watched as he stood up straight and stared at her.

She turned away from him and started to walk away. She realised she should have known better; he was never going to just let her leave _that_ easily. She looked down at her wrist; one of his abilities had captured her wrist just like his own hand would have, stopping her from walking away any further. "Let go."

"Where are you going?" His voice was quiet, almost soft.

"I'm leaving." She told him. "Unless you're going to try and kill me..." She looked over her shoulder to see the disgusted look on his face that she had seen so many times. It was the look that revealed he would never try hard enough to actually kill her.

They had been playing this game for years now. Claire would help Peter and her dad –until two days ago- hunt down Sylar...but over the years he had stopped trying to actually kill or even seriously harm them. He had gone after other _Specials_ instead. But he would always have time to find Claire...and try to convince or force her to join him.

Of course her answer was always _no_, and in his attempts at forcing her Peter had always stopped him.

"You're going back to Peter, aren't you?"

"He's the only one I have left, remember? Everyone else is dead."

"I'm not." Sylar said in a somewhat sad and hopeless tone. It was so _un-Sylar_ like. "You know how I feel, you know _I love you_,"

"Stop saying that." She cut him off before he could say anything else, but with much less effort than she had in the beginning. She turned to face him –her hand still gripped tight by his ability- and moved the gun that was in her hand up to his head.

Sylar's smirk reappeared, all traces of the sad and hopelessness gone. "That's why –in the end- they all tried to keep you away from me...keep us apart...because they could see you felt the same way."

"I do _not_ love you!" Clair said loudly, but still with much less effort.

His smirk widened. "Yes you do, Claire." He used the back of his hand to stroke her cheek. He watched her eyes close and her lips part slightly as she breathed in deeply. "I think you always have..." He moved his face close to hers.

All she wanted to do was open her eyes and shoot him again and again, even though it wouldn't actually do anything to him...but it would make her feel better. She kept her eyes shut tight and tried to keep her breathing even –but as her heart beat got faster it was harder- as he pressed his lips to hers. She didn't move...and neither did he.

They stayed perfectly still, just standing there with their lips pressed together. She wasn't sure what he was doing, and she wasn't sure if it still counted as a kiss...but she knew _they_ would still see it as one.

Sylar pulled away slowly, a smug smirk on his face. "It's been a while, Peter." He said as he kept his eyes on Clair's face, hating the way they widened in guilt –and shock.

She tried to turn to look at Peter, to explain, but Sylar's ability still had a hold of her. "Sylar, let go." She told him, and he let go. She watched Sylar stare down at her, a sort of hurt and disappointed look on his face.

"See you soon, Claire. Peter," Sylar said as he smirked at Peter before disappearing.

Claire breathed out slowly. She turned to look at Peter standing in the doorway. "Peter...that, that wasn't what it..." She started but trailed off as she watched Peter walk over to her.

Peter grabbed her hand and held tight. He kissed he forehead and stared towards the door, pulling her behind with him. "Let's just go home."

Claire smiled softly, breathing out relieved. "Yeah." As they walked through the door, she turned to look over her shoulder at the place where Sylar had been standing. "Yeah, let's go home."

* * *

The End!

Thanks for reading.


End file.
